Driving with Danny
by Laura Louisa Lewis
Summary: In the episode "Drawing Dead," Jamie commented that Edie drives "like my brother when he was fourteen." Since Joe was reportedly a careful driver, Jamie must have been talking about Danny. But why would four-year-old Jamie know how his fourteen-year old brother drove?


**First Blue Bloods fanfic. Please review!  
**

_**Driving With Danny**_

"So, Nicki, I saw you drove out to the house today." Jamie commented as the Sunday dinner conversation came to a lull. "How did you convince your mother to let you do that?"

"I used my powers of persuasion," Nicki replied. "That, and her arm was sore this morning."

Erin sent a glare her brother's way. "Jamie, I do let her drive. And I'm doing much better at staying calm when she does."

"Sure you are," Danny teased his sister. "You're just hiding the aggression better."

Erin glared at her older brother. "You just wait, Danny. It will be your turn soon." She gestured toward her oldest nephew.

"Yeah, Dad, when do I get to learn to drive?" Jack asked his father.

Danny nearly choked on the wine he was sipping. "In a few years. You're not old enough yet."

"If I remember correctly, Danny, he's only a year younger than you were when you first drove my car," Frank commented.

"You learned to drive when you were fourteen?" Jack asked. "I thought you had to be fifteen."

"Drove. Not learned to drive. And there were extenuating circumstances," Danny argued.

"Ex-ten-you-ate-ing?" Sean asked.

"It means he had a good reason for doing what he shouldn't, Sean," Linda explained. "And I'm sure you want to explain what that reason was, don't you, babe?"

"It was 1987. Your grandparents were out of town at a law enforcement conference, your great-grandparents were at some school thing of Erin's and I was home alone with that one," Danny gestured toward Jamie, "and Joe…"

-B-B-

1987

"You give love a baaad naaaame," fourteen year old Danny Reagan sang along with the Bon Jovi song pounding through his headphones as he worked on his homework at the dining room table.

"Danny."

Danny didn't hear the quiet voice of his ten-year old brother from beside him.

"Danny."

This time, the voice was louder and accompanied by a kick to his leg. "What the hell, Joey?" he snapped, pulling the headphones off his ears.

Joe stood beside the chair, cradling one arm to his chest. "I hurt my arm, Danny. I think I need to go to the hospital."

With a sigh, Danny dropped the headphones on top of his Walkman on the table. "Lemme see." He reached out for the arm his brother was clutching against his body.

Joe twisted away from him. "No! Danny, it hurts," he whimpered.

Danny finally looked up at his brother's face. Joe was biting down on his lower lip in an effort to keep it from trembling, and tears were tracking down his cheeks. He glanced down at his brother's left arm. Even he could see it was broken. The bone clearly was going at wrong angles, and the skin over the break had already discolored vivid red and purple. "Joey, what the hell happened?"

"I was playing basketball with Jamie…"

"Jamie's _four_! He can't play basketball!" Danny protested.

"So he's not very good. But I tripped over him and fell, and my arm hit the rock wall funny. And it _hurts_. A _lot_." Joe choked on the last word and fresh tears slipped out of his eyes. "I want Mommy. Or Grandma."

Danny threw an arm around his brother's shoulders. "Me too, kiddo. But I'm all you've got right now."

That was apparently the wrong thing to do, and the wrong thing to say. Joe stumbled forward, yelping in pain and holding his arm tighter. The brave expression he had struggled to maintain crumbled and, despite his best efforts, one quiet sob escaped, followed by another.

Danny carefully pulled his brother against him. "Hey. Hey, Joey, don't do that. If you start blubbering, then I'll start too, and then Jamie will be the only big boy here. Come on, I'm not _that_ bad, am I?"

Joe sniffled. "Yes," he choked out as he tried to stop crying.

"Am not. C'mon now." Danny wiped at his brother's nose with the hem of his shirt, then found a clean spot to wipe away the tears. He tried to come up with a plan. Of all the days and times for Joe to hurt himself, it had to be on a day when his parents were out of town at some law-enforcement shindig and at a time when his grandmother taking a casserole to a young woman from church who'd just had a baby and his grandfather was off with Erin at her junior high basketball game. How was he going to get Joey to the hospital? He could call 9-1-1 and get an ambulance, but then what would he do with Jamie? Speaking of which… "Joe, where's Jamie?"

"I sat him down on the front step and told him to stay put." Joe sniffled again, then coughed, then whimpered as the movement jostled his broken arm.

Which meant Jamie was probably playing in traffic, because that kid never sat still or did what he was told. Danny quickly walked to the front door and sighed in relief. For once, Jamie was obeying orders and sitting on the step. His baby brother was curled around the basketball, his little shoulders shaking as he cried. Danny stepped outside and sat down beside his baby brother. "Hey, Jamester, what's wrong?"

-B-B-

"Before this goes any further, remember I was four. _Four_. And just barely that." Jamie interrupted Danny's story.

Danny reached over to squeeze his brother's shoulder. "That's right. Jamie was just an itty bitty baby boy," he teased.

Jamie repressed an annoyed sigh. "Just saying, if I'd been older…"

"I would've been older too, and I wouldn't have this story to tell. Quit interrupting," Danny replied. "As I was saying, I asked Jamie what was wrong…"

-B-B-

Jamie dropped the basketball, sending it bouncing down the front walk toward the street, and climbed into Danny's lap. "I broked Joey," he wailed. "And he yelled at me. Where's Mommy? I want Mommy."

Danny now knew what not to say in response to _that_ statement. He held his baby brother tighter.

"Jamie, I fell. It was an accident," Joe said as he carefully made his way down the stairs. He sniffled again. "And I didn't mean to yell. I only wanted you to stay put."

Danny helped Joe sit down beside him and wrapped an arm around his shoulders. "See Jamie, Joe's not mad at you. Accidents happen. Joe will be fine, once we get to the doctor." _But how do I get him there__?_ He looked across the front yard and spotted his parents' car parked neatly in the driveway. _I'll drive them to the hospital myself! _He stood up, and helped Joe back to his feet. "Go get in the car," he told Joe.

"Danny, you can't drive!" Joe protested.

"Can too. Grandpa taught me."

"That was a golf cart last summer!"

"Same difference. Get yourself settled in the front seat, and I'll get Jamie into his car seat," Danny ordered. He opened the front door for his brother, and then opened the back door. Jamie's car seat wasn't there. "Crap," he swore. He'd forgotten they'd moved it to Grandpa's car. Oh well. That couldn't be helped. He plopped Jamie down on the seat, and buckled him in tightly.

Jamie tugged at the lap belt. "Where's my seat? S'posed to be in my seat," he fretted.

"Today's special. Today you get the big boy belt instead," Danny told his little brother.

"I want my seat," Jamie insisted.

Danny reached in and mussed Jamie's hair. "Too bad, kid." He turned to the front seat and helped Joe get seated, carefully arranging the shoulder strap of the seat belt so it didn't touch Joe's arms.

"Danny, this doesn't seem like a good idea."

"Hey, you want to get that arm fixed or not?"

Joe nodded. "Yeah. It really hurts." He bit down on his lip again, swallowing hard against the pain.

"Hang on, kiddo. We'll be at the hospital soon." Danny sprinted around the car to the driver's seat before he realized he didn't have the keys.

"Guys, I'll be right back. Stay put," he told his brothers before running back into the house, grabbing the keys from the rack by the back door and returning to the car. In his haste to get his brother to the hospital, any thought of leaving a note for his grandparents, or even closing the door behind him was forgotten. "Okay, all ready to go?"

"Ready." Joe's reply ended in a small moan.

"Set, Go!" Jamie yelled from the backseat. Apparently, his earlier tears had been forgotten in the face of the new adventure of 'riding in the car without a car seat.'

Joe tried to giggle around another quiet whimper.

Danny tried to smile, for Joe's benefit. God, the sound of Joey trying not to cry, trying to be tough for his brothers' sake, was going to drive him crazy. He started up the car, then reached for the radio. "Let's get some tunes cranked up, what do you say?"

"Toons," Jamie called out. "Looney Toons!"

"Wrong kind of tunes, Jame," Joe replied.

Danny quickly tuned in his favorite station, and turned up the volume. "Here we go. Danny Tunes!"

He shifted the car into reverse and stepped hard on the gas pedal, sending the vehicle shooting out into the street. He rotated the wheel and stepped on the brake, halting the car's backwards momentum a half second before it slammed into the neighbor's mailbox. "Oops. Too much gas," he muttered. He shifted the car into drive and hit the gas again, only slightly less hard. The car zoomed down the street.

"Danny, the road's ending!" Joe gasped beside him.

Danny rotated the steering wheel to the right, nearly fishtailing the rear end as he took the corner too fast.

"Whee! Faster!" Jamie laughed from the back seat.

"Don't listen to him! He's too little to know you're driving bad!" Joe braced his feet against the dashboard as Danny took another curve above the speed limit.

Danny accelerated down the street as he tried to remember the next turn that would take them to hospital. Horns blared as he drove through a stop sign. It was the next street, or maybe the one after that…

"Danny! You were supposed to stop there!" Joe protested.

"Where?" Danny glanced behind him and didn't see the speed bump coming. He hit it too fast, bouncing the occupants of the car in their seats. Jamie's shriek of delight almost drowned out Joe's pained yelps. Almost.

"Ow! Ow! Danny, that _hurt_!" Joe braced his arm tighter against his chest. "Don't _do_ that!"

"Okay. Sorry. Okay." Danny eased off the gas slightly. "There's the turn. Hold on," he called as he sent the car into a broad left turn. Horns blared and brakes screeched again as the drivers of oncoming cars slammed on their brakes to avoid him.

"Father in Heaven, hear my prayer, Keep me in Thy loving care…" Joe squeezed his eyes shut and began quickly reciting the only prayer he could remember. "Be my guide in all I do, and bless all those who love me too. Father in Heaven…"

Danny glanced over at his kid brother, nearly missing the red light. He slammed on the brakes, bringing the car to a hard stop halfway into the intersection. "Hey kid, it's okay. See, I stopped at this red light."

"… Hear my prayer…" Joe opened his eyes. "You're in the intersection."

"More go. More!" Jamie called out.

The light turned green, and Danny stepped on the accelerator again, moving the car forward quickly. Flashing red and blue lights suddenly illuminated the interior of the car.

"Shit. Cops," Danny groaned. He slowed down and pulled over toward the curb, not quite getting the car close enough or straight enough.

"Danny, you're not supposed to curse, 'specially not in front of Jamie," Joe reminded him.

"Shit, cops." Jamie repeated from the back seat.

"Mom is going to _kill_ you. Dad too." Joe's short laugh ended in a pained moan. "Danny, I don't feel so good. My tummy feels yucky."

Danny reached over to rustle Joe's hair. "Chill. It's gonna be okay."

One of the officers knocked on the driver's side window, and Danny cranked it down. "Hello, Officer…," Danny looked at the man's nameplate. "…Bennett."

Officer Bennett frowned at him. "I'd ask for your license and registration, but you're clearly too young to have a license, and I'll bet you don't know what the registration is. So why don't we start with your name?"

"Daniel Reagan." He looked up at the officer. "My kid brother Joe is hurt. I gotta get him to the hospital."

The young officer on the other side of the car opened the door and leaned down to peer into the car. "Hello, boys. Which one of you our injured party?"

"Shit cops," Jamie cheerfully announced again.

The officer laughed. "Starting early, isn't he?" He turned to Joe. "What's wrong?"

Joe looked up at the officer. "It's my arm, Sir. I broke it."

The officer looked down at Joe's arm and winced. "That you did. Don't worry, we'll get you taken care of." He looked up as Officer Bennett summoned him to the back of the car. "Hang on."

Danny turned around in the seat, trying to hear what was being said. A quiet groan from Joe pulled his attention back to his kid brother. Joe had curled up slightly on the seat. His eyes were squeezed shut and he was panting for breath.

"Danny, I _really_ don't feel good." Joe moaned between rapid breaths. "I'm gonna throw up."

"No you're not. Not in Dad's car." Danny reached over to rub the top of Joe's head. "It's okay. We're just a few blocks away from the hospital. It's okay," he soothed.

Knocking on the window frame pulled his attention away from Joe.

"Okay, young man. Time to get out of the car," the younger officer ordered.

"But I need to get Joey to the hospital," Danny protested. "Come on, Officer…" Danny checked out his nameplate. "Officer Renzulli, let me get him to the doctor."

"We're going to drive him there. In our car. We think you've done enough driving for today." The officer opened the door. "Take care of your baby brother. My TO, Officer Bennett, will get Joe to our car."

Danny watched with envy as Bennett easily lifted Joe out of the car and into his arms. God, he hated being fourteen and scrawny and unable to get his own brother to the hospital.

An hour later, Danny was sitting in the Emergency Room waiting area. Waiting. Wishing his parents or grandparents were there with him. Wishing he could get up and pace around the room to burn off the nervous energy. But he couldn't; Jamie was finally napping, curled up across the seat next to Danny with his head resting in Danny's lap, a thumb stuck firmly in his mouth.

His baby brother had spent the time since they arrived at the hospital repeatedly asking where Joey was (with the doctor, Danny had explained until he was blue in the face), asking why they couldn't stay with Joey (because we're too little, he'd said, when he really wanted to say _because you're too little_) and pouting and whining for Mommy when Danny's answers didn't satisfy him. After Jamie threw a screaming, kicking tantrum, demanding to see his Mommy, Danny had bought a bag of cookies from the vending machine and fed them to Jamie, buying himself a brief few minutes of peace. But as soon as the cookies were gone, Jamie went right back to asking the same questions again and again until the sugar crash hit and he finally fell asleep. Maybe his mother would've had a better way to handle Jamie, other than doping him up on sugar, but he wasn't his mother. He was just a teenager trying to take care of one injured brother and one scared baby brother, and doing the best he could.

Lost in his thoughts, Danny didn't notice Officer Renzulli approaching until he took a seat next to him.

"Thought you might want to know, your brother's doing okay. Sleeping right now. The docs got his arm in a temporary splint and gave him some pain meds. Sent him right off to dreamland," he said quietly.

"That took an hour? You're not telling me everything," Danny accused. He hated when adults lied to him or didn't tell him the whole truth, which counted as lying in his book.

Renzulli shook his head. "It's a bad break, kid. When they were working on the temporary splint, they had to move his arm a little, and it must have hurt because he, how do you kids say it… tossed his cookies. And that shifted the bone just enough that it broke through the skin and the blood that had been building up spurted out, and that kinda panicked him. Heck, it had me worried. And then he puked again, and all that made his blood pressure take something of a drop. So it took a while to get things under control. But he's okay now. All drugged up and sleeping."

Danny frowned, almost wishing he hadn't demanded the details. "I should've been with him. He shouldn't have done that alone."

"Kid, you needed to be here with that little guy." Officer Renzulli gestured toward Jamie. "Bennett, my partner, he's been with Joe the whole time. He's got kids of his own about that age, so he knows how to take care of them, and he's gonna stay with your brother until your family gets here. He's not alone."

"Thanks," Danny replied. "And thanks for arresting him so they could treat him. I didn't even think... Didn't know they'd refuse take care of him like that because Dad or Mom weren't here."

"Kid, we didn't arrest him. Protective custody. It's a little bit different. Now, you… You we should arrest for that stunt driving your father's car. Do you have any idea how many traffic violations you committed?"

"Twenty-three?"

"Smart ass," Renzulli muttered. "But, yeah, something like that."

"Can you wait until my grandparents get here?" Danny asked. "Someone needs to watch out for Jamie."

"Nah, we're not gonna arrest you. We'll let your family deal with you this time." The officer lightly grabbed Danny's shoulder. "On that subject, we got in touch with your grandparents. Chief Reagan actually called dispatch before we tracked them down. You really worried them. He gets home from your sister's game and the house is wide open, the three of you and your Dad's car are gone, and your basketball's flattened in the street."

Danny nodded. "Yeah. I should've left a note."

"Next time. Anyway, Chief Reagan and your Grandmother will be here soon. We're not busting you for the underage driving, because you were trying to help your brother, but I'm not sure your grandparents feel the same way. You might be in some trouble with them."

"Nothing new there. And I'm in for even more trouble when my father hears about it," Danny moped. "It's his car."

"Your father's Detective Reagan, out of the 8th?"

"That's him."

"He's a good guy. He'll understand. Probably be proud of you for what you did for Joe. Besides, I'll bet your parents are gonna be too worried about your brother to bust your ass."

Jamie stirred in Danny's lap. "Danny, what's bus' your ass?" he asked.

-B-B-

"You know, it was weeks before Jamie stopped saying that," Danny remarked. "Whenever one of us – Joe or Erin or me – got in trouble, there was Jamie. "'Sh.."

"Danny, language," Linda warned.

"'_bleep_ cops, bus' your ass.' The kid was a freaking tape recorder. You say something one time in his presence and you'd hear it again and again."

"Jamie, what _did_ get you to stop?" Erin asked.

"Grandma," Jamie replied. "She pulled me aside one day and told me little kids used those words, and real big kids said, 'the Devil's going to get you.'"

"And that, boys and girls, is why grandparents make the best babysitters," Henry added. "They can drive, and they know how to make smarty-pants four year olds behave."

"Which is why we left our children in your care, Pop. We didn't know you were going to subcontract it out to Danny," Frank teased his father.

-B-B-

A few days later, Jamie was out on routine patrol with his partner, Edie Janko, carefully piloting the patrol car down a Manhattan street. It had, so far, been a nice, quiet day for the officers. Jamie's thoughts wandered back to Sunday dinner, and what he'd decided to call "the curse of the much younger sibling." In almost every one of Danny's and Erin's stories, he was always the baby; the one crying or throwing tantrums or doing something adorably cute. But it wasn't entirely their fault; by the time he'd gown up more, Danny and Erin were out of the house, Danny off serving in the Marines and Erin at Columbia University across town. Which was probably one reason Danny sometimes still refused to treat him as a grown-up: because in most of Danny's memories, he was that little four-year-old kid who needed looking after. And there was nothing he could do to change that. Sure, he could make new memories with his adult siblings, but nothing would replace their memories of him as the family baby, or make them stop telling those stories. The curse of the much younger sibling.

A quiet sigh from the passenger seat interrupted his musings, as if Edie knew what he was thinking. But that wasn't possible, was it?

Edie turned slightly in her seat to face him. "Don't take this the wrong way, but you drive like my grandmother," she commented.

Jamie smiled as he remembered the conversation at dinner the previous Sunday. There was no rule that said he couldn't tell stories on his older siblings. "Well, you drive like my brother when he was fourteen..."


End file.
